Like a Painting
by nitric-hamster
Summary: He continued. ‘Granger, I realize that the picture I drew does look...a little like you, its true, but honestly, I was looking at a wooden drawing model.’ He paused, waiting for a reaction, but none came.
1. Prologue: Drawing model

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the other characters in this story. Wish I did, though.

Prologue Drawing Model 

Draco glanced around, making sure no one was there. Of course, there never was, or he would not have chosen this room for his midnight escapades. Not only that, but it served his purposes perfectly. There was a single window inhabiting the wall that had been, for some unknown reason, enchanted to perpetually show twilight outside, which lit up the room in a fantastically dim manner.

He slowly reached into his bag and pulled out what looked like a haphazardly cut lump of wood, setting it down so that the light from the window hit it at an obscure angle. It was not particularly remarkable, as far as lumps of wood go, until he began to pull each little pine limb away from what was apparently the wood's midriff. Eventually, it ended up vaguely resembling a human, though it was too blocky to tell what sex it was.

With a triumphant smirk, Draco made a final adjustment of its leg and sat back to admire his handiwork. Perfect. The model's arm curved gracefully over its head, and its legs were splayed out so that it almost looked as if it were in mid jump. With that, he gently pulled a piece of parchment and his best quill from his bag, and allowed everything that had been pent up inside him that week to flow from his fingertips in a rush of scribbling, scratching and, occasionally, frustrated yells.

After almost an hour, he placed down the last dab and sighed. Leaning back in his chair, he admired the results. He had decided to draw a girl on the paper, for fear of risking the masculinity of any dancing men he may have drawn. The girl he had made was beautiful, he admitted to himself, very beautiful. He stroked the curvy line running down her back affectionately, before starting to clear away.

'Well, well, well,' purred a voice from behind him. He started and scrambled to hide the parchment, before even bothering to figure out to whom the voice belonged. Whoever it was snatched the drawing from him and dangled it just out of his reach, making little noises of amusement every time he grabbed for it. Finally, he twisted around with his fist raised, but stopped in mid-punch when he saw who it was.

'Granger!' he gasped. His surprise quickly turned to anger, but before he could get his fist ready again, Granger had jumped backwards.

'Hmm, Mr. Malfoy out of bed after hours, are we? This. Is. Delicious,' she muttered, as if each word was its own sentence. 'And doing what? Doodling? Or'- She glanced down at the picture for a moment, while Draco silently cursed her inside his head. Of all the damned people to find out, it had to be loud-mouthed Granger! He moaned, rubbing his temples. The whole school would be talking about what a fruit he was by this time tomorrow.

'This isn't half bad, Malfoy,' mused Hermione. Draco cocked an eyebrow, but couldn't figure out whether or not she was being sarcastic.

'Give it back,' he said finally. It was more of a threat than anything, and Hermione responded by tucking the picture away in her robe and smiling.

'_Give it back_,' he repeated. 'And,' he added as an afterthought, 'you better not tell anyone about this. _Anyone_. Or else.' Hermione pondered this for a moment and nodded slowly, but still refused to give the picture back.

'So you really think it's that good, huh?' he teased, hoping it would rile her into returning it, or at the very least, into destroying the evidence.

'No, not really,' shrugged Hermione, though they both knew she was lying. She took it back out for a moment and admired it again. 'But I'm keeping it anyways.'

"Why?" snapped Draco.

'Because it won't do to have pictures of me floating around the school, especially if they're got _your _signature on them,' she said simply.

'What the bloody hell are you talking about, Granger, why would I draw pictures of a dirty mud'- Draco was cut short when she shoved his picture at him, and his eyes widened as he looked back at the beautiful woman he'd produced. Granger had been right; it _was_ her.


	2. NO

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the other characters in this story. Wish I did though.  
  
**Chapter One  
NO**  
  
'What's wrong, Hermoine?' Ron asked stuffing a scone in his mouth. She glared at him through bloodshot eyes, and then hung her head in her hands again. Ron and Harry shrugged at each other, and Ron tried offering her the other half of the scone.

'No thank you,' she snapped, giving him a disgusted look.

'More for me then,' he grinned.

'No really, what's up with you Hermione? You look...well, you don't look too good,' Harry said.

'Yeah, you look like you woke up next to a Blast-Ended Skrewt,' Ron laughed. Hermione shot him a McGonagall Look and thundered off, leaving him and Harry in stunned silence.

'Did I say something off, mate?'

Hermione was seething. It was so like Ron and Harry to not understand. She possibly had Malfoy, the slimy little git, stalking her or something and all they could do was make sick and perverted jokes. The only thing she could think of was going to the library, but she was afraid to go there and run into Malfoy. She definitely wasn't going to the Room of Requirement. She had taken to going there to study lately, since the books she needed were always there. The library was so huge; sometimes it was impossible to find what she was looking for. It would have been simple to just go and ask Madame Prince for help, but the old bat scared her senseless.

She doubted she would be going there anymore, though, since she found it was Malfoy's thinking spot or whatnot. Finally, she decided to give it up and go take a nap in the Gryffindor common room.

Hermione gasped out loud as she felt someone grab her arm and twist it into an unnatural position. She tried to see who it is from the corner of her eye, but she could just as easily guess. Sure enough, and split second later she was pinned to the wall and Malfoy was just inches from her throbbing head.

'Malfoy, I swear, if you don't release me _this instant'_-

'You'll what?' he smirked. 'You'll lecture me? Bore me to death?' She squirmed and clenched her eyes shut, as if that would make him disappear. But she felt his grip harden, and his nose brushed against her brow.

'Malfoy, we are in sixth year! Why can't we act a little more mature?' she panted, moaning as he drove her further into the wall.

'You told Potty and Weasel, didn't you,' he hissed in her ear. 'They were looking a bit...disturbed at breakfast. You told them.'

'No I didn't, now get off me Malfoy!' she cried.

'Malfoy, get off her!' another voice yelled. Or was it two voices?

'Ron! Harry!' she yelled, almost crying in relief. Not only was the pain blinding her, but she shuddered to imagine what Malfoy would have done if they hadn't shown up.

'Relax, don't make a scene Potter,' Malfoy drawled lazily, dusing off his robes. 'I wasn't planning on touching your little mudblood friend.'

'And what do you call that you were doing right now?' Ron spat, advancing on Malfoy. His red head shot up a foot over Draco's freakishly blonde one, but Draco still appeard to be looking down at him.

'I call it intimidating,' he replied coolly. 'Now if you'll excuse me...' He ducked under Ron's weak punch and strutted off, but only after pausing and adding, 'And don't flatter yourself Mudblood! That wasn't meant to be you anyway!' As soon as he was gone, Hermione dropped to her knees and stifled a sob. She hadn't realized how terrified she had been.

'Hermione, are you okay?' Harry asked, helping her to her feet. He looked over her with concern. Ron tried to look concerned too, but he was feeling angry rather than worried. How dare Malfoy touch her? How dare he? He had tainted Hermione, lovely Hermione, if only he was still here he would make sure Malfoy wasn't so damn cocky-

'Yes, I'm fine,' she muttered, snapping Ron out of his violent fantasies. 'I'm fine. He didn't do anything to me...no really, he didn't. We were...discussing.' Harry and Ron didn't look so sure, but she said an anxious 'bye' and hurtled off. Harry and Ron still stood there a while later, each caught up in his own thoughts, but both massaging their fists.

Meanwhile, Hermione was laying on her bed, using a purring Crookshanks as a pillow. No matter how she tried to stop it, her traitorous brain wouldn't stop thinking about Malfoy. He said that it hadn't been her, but did she believe him? He was Malfoy. Of course she didn't. But then again, he _was _Malfoy. Malfoy was a total jerk, but still, he was finely chiseled and the hair wasn't bad either...and those eyes. Her stomach tightened as she remembered how close they had been to her own. But that was gross. He was Malfoy, for God's sake. She firmly told herself she'd already established that, and then told herself to shut up. Sure, he was hot, but what he made up for in sex appeal he lacked in manners. What she would give to see him turned into a ferret again, bouncing all over the great hall for everyone to see, bouncing up to the Gryffindor common room and up to her bed...

She shook her head and mentally slapped herself. No. _NO_. But then again...day dreams never hurt anyone. She lay back on her bed grinning and sighing, when she realized someone was watching her. Someone smirking at her.


	3. Mirrors and Towels

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the other characters in this story. Wish I did though.  
  
**Chapter Two  
Mirrors and Towels**

'Ginny, don't _do_ that,' Hermione gasped, jolting to her senses and releasing the pillow she had in a stranglehold. Ginny's smirk widened as she went over to sit on Hermione's bed.

'So who were you thinking about, huh?' she asked with a grin. 'Is Hermione thinking dirty thoughts? Never would have expected it...'

'I was not!' Hermione cried indignantly, glad that she and Ginny were the only ones in the room.

'Well I heard sighing and decided to investigate...wouldn't be good if a prefect was...well, let's suffice to say caught in the act.' Hermione pretended to be scandalized, but she had to admit it was likely the noises she made sounded suspicious.

'Well I'm not with anyone, so you can leave me in peace,' Hermione spat, trying to sound annoyed, but her smile betrayed her. Ginny whacked her with the pillow Hermione had been cuddling only moments before.

'I still haven't checked under the bed yet,' she laughed, and was almost knocked off the bed when Hermione hit her with another pillow. By the time Parvati and Lavender came up to get some shuteye, it had evolved into a full-out pillow fight.

'Sorry mates,' Ginny grinned, and with one last feather filled smack she pranced out. 'What was that?' Lavender asked amusedly. Hermione didn't say anything, but lay down expecting a very pleasant dream.

The next morning she took a long, steaming hot shower in the Prefect's bathroom. It felt so good, she could finally concentrate on herself rather than Harry, Ron, Ginny, her studies...or Malfoy...She shook her head viciously, flinging water droplets everywhere, and got out. Hermione took a good look in the mirror. She didn't look half bad, all wet and steamy. At least her hair wasn't a mess when it was dripping with water. She walked closer to the mirror, examining her lips closely. She had kissed a few boys, even Ron once...or twice, and she knew she was a bad kisser. They were all too polite to mention it, which she was grateful for.

She leaned a bit closer to her reflection, puckering up a little. She had rolled her eyes when she caught Parvati practicing her kissing on a mirror, and how ironic it was that now she was doing the very same thing. _I'm such a hypocrite_,' she thought. And before she could change her mind and give herself a good slap, she crashed her mouth into the glass.

'Ow!' she squealed. 'Is that really what it's like to kiss me?' She massaged her mouth and checked that no teeth were missing, and then triend it again. She gently leaned over, and brushed her lips over the mirror. Just when she got to massaging it with the tip of her tongue, she heard the door burst open.

'AARGH!' she shrieked, making sure the towel she had on was on tight. She glared at the intruder, and saw nothing more than a smirking Ginny Weasly. 'Ginny, you come in at the worst times!' she gasped.

'This time you can't deny you where thinking about a guy,' Ginny said triumphantly. 'Who? Tell me.' Hermione shook her head and pulled her towel up a bit.

'How did you get in here?' she asked, more curious than mad. 'You're not a prefect.'

'Ron told me the password,' Ginny replied simply. 'Nice place, isn't it? But stop avoiding the subject. Who were you pretending to kiss? I'm assuming it wasn't really yourself.'

'For you information, I was just...practicing,' Hermione said with as much dignity as she could muster, and stomped out of the loo so that Ginny wouldn't see her blushing. She was never going to hear the end of this; she just prayed Ginny didn't tell Harry and Ron. She was so absorbed in thinking up a valid excuse she didn't notice Malfoy, coming down the hall towards her and smirking as he leered at her. She only noticed when she slammed into him.

'Granger,' Malfoy said, biting his lip and trying not to laugh.

'What's so funny? Never seen a mudblood roaming the halls before, eh, Malfoy?' Hermione hissed, ticked off.

'No, its just that I've never seen a mudblood roaming the halls in a towel before,' he said, and starting sniggering uncontrollably. Hermione looked down, scandalized, and saw he was right. Trying to ignore the embarrassed tears the stung her eyes, she tore back to the bathroom and slammed the door shut. She looked around, making sure Ginny wasn't there, and changed into her school robes.

'I can never show my face to Malfoy again,' she moaned, banging her head on the sink. She looked up and saw a bruise beginning to form on her temple. 'Ow, she muttered, rubbing it. This wasn't like her, not at all. She shook her head and tried to clear it of all thought, and then regain her senses. It was no use. She couldn't believe she'd run into Malfoy after trying to avoid him so hard, let alone half naked. What did she do to deserve this? She was about to leave when someone started pounding on the portrait outside of the bathroom.

'Open up, Granger,' Malfoy drawled. 'We need to talk.'


	4. Modeling Career

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the other characters in this story. Wish I did though.  
  
Chapter Three Modeling Career  
  
'Go away Malfoy,' Hermione yelled through the closed portrait hole.  
  
'No,' he replied coolly, making Hermione even angrier.  
  
'You prat!' she shrieked. 'You slimy, mangy, git, son of a b'-  
  
'Shut up for once, Granger, and just listen to me,' he snapped. Hermione was taken aback. She'd never known Malfoy to lose his cool before. Draco was fairly shocked too, because the know-it-all had actually done what he told her to. He threw back his shoulders smugly, with a new air of authority. Even Hermione could sense it through the portrait hole.  
  
'Look, I...' he thought for a minute about what he would say. One wrong word and the girl might blow a gasket. She listened, silently, to his spluttering. This had better be good. She was about ready to rampage out of the bathroom and smack him upside the head like she had in third year. Ah, sweet memories.  
  
'Granger, I like your body,' Draco finally decided to say. That was the only way he could put it, even if it wasn't the best choice. He heard and angry snort from the other side of the painting and hurried to continue before she could interrupt. He groaned softly, and wondered what his father would say if he caught his only son sucking up to a mudblood.  
  
He continued. 'Granger, I realize that the picture I drew does look...a little like you, its true, but honestly, I was looking at a wooden drawing model.' He paused, waiting for a reaction, but none came. 'Yeah. And for some time now, I've been needing a...a real model. Like, an actual person. And even if you are a mudblood, you're still...' he wondered if he should add what he was about to say. Well, if there was any damage caused by all this, it was already done, so there was no hurt in trying.  
  
'You're hot granger, and I wasn't you to model for my drawings,' Draco muttered in a rush. Hermione flushed with pleasure and hid herself behind her matted hair, even though she knew perfectly well Malfoy couldn't see her. So he was slightly attracted to her! She grinned evilly, surprised at herself, wanting more of that honeyed flattery. It wasn't every day Malfoy sucked up to a muggle, and she knew it must be pure torture for him. So she called to him, sweet and innocently, 'What's that Malfoy? I couldn't hear you.'  
  
'You're hot so just model for me, okay?' he almost shouted. Draco's voice cracked as he realized anyone could have heard that. He nervously glanced through the hallways. No one was there, but that didn't mean no one had heard. Biting his lip, he decided to be thankful that if anyone had, they wouldn't know it was Granger he was taking to.

Hermione thought about it for a minute. Let's be logical about the situation, shall we? What could Malfoy do to use this to his own advantage? Well for one, he could take advantage of her when they were alone, but she doubted that would happen anytime soon. He could draw something naughty and post it up all over the school, but then people might find out about his girly little secret. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't think of anything wrong with saying yes. Her lust might have just been getting in the way of her better judgment, but when that thought crossed her mind she told her brain to shut it.

'Yes,' she said happily. 'Yes, I will.'  
  
'Good,' Malfoy said, once again in his trademark drawl. 'I'll meet you in the Room of Requirement tonight, ten sharp. Bring no one, say nothing, or else the deal is off.'  
  
'Why should I care if the deal is off?' Hermione asked, slightly incensed. 'It was you who wanted me to model in the first place!'  
  
'Sure it was, Granger,' Malfoy smirked, strutting off down the hall. Hermione poked her head out of the portrait hole and waited till he was gone. Then, seething, she climbed out and thundered off. How dare he? Selfish, cocky, bloody jerk. She barely knew where he feet were taking her, but somehow she ended up staring at the Fat Lady's wobbling double chin.  
  
'Pixie dust,' she snapped, scrambling into the common room as the portrait hole swung open.  
  
'Whoa, Hermione, what's your problem?' Ron shouted as Hermione stormed towards the girl's dormitories, knocking over he and Harry's chess game along the way.  
  
She was seriously considering not going, setting Malfoy up. She grinned at the thought of him sitting there for hours, wondering where the hell Hermione was. And then, doodling to pass the time, getting a paper cut, a very bad one, a fatal one...  
  
She was also shocked when it hit her that he could set her up as well. She could go and find him absent. She bet that was what he planned, to make her lose sleep. To humiliate her. But he had sounded sincere when he asked her... She flopped down onto her bed and shrieked into her pillow. Why did Malfoy have to be so impossible? She glanced over at her watch...not that she actually planned to go, she was just curious as to how long she had kept him waiting.  
  
It wasn't even eight yet. She rolled over and slid her bookbag from underneath her, and poked around in it. Hermione figured if she was going to loiter around, she might as well do something constructive. She pulled out her Arithmacy textbook, since it looked like she had more homework of that than anything else. It was, in fact, just about ten by the time she finished. She stared at her watch, willing it to go faster. Five past...ten past...No! not fast enough! This was so boring. Before she knew what she was doing, she found herself opening the door to the softly lit Room of Requirement.  
  
'You're late,' Malfoy sneered as she stumbled in.


	5. Twit

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the other characters in this story. Wish I did though.  
  
-I know Hermione's been acting a little weird...sorry bout that! I'll try and maker her normal in this chapter-  
  
**Chapter Four  
Twit**  
  
'Let's just get this over with,' Hermione snapped, shrugging off her robes and tossing them over an oak chair by the door. She was actually sort of surprised he had showed up, and wondered what the catch of all this was. It wasn't like Malfoy to act civil, which was what he appeared to be doing.  
  
'Sit over there, now,' he commanded, pointing viciously at a pile of cushions on the floor. Well, as civil as a Malfoy could get, at least.  
  
'Don't tell me what to do,' Hermione barked back, but nonetheless she did what he told her to. She was beginning to have second thoughts about this. Even if he was sexy, he was still obviously a git. Harry wasn't too bad looking himself, but she still didn't lose her head and force herself to do stupid things for him. Like modeling, which was a despicable career. Modeling was for bimbos and beautiful people, and she knew she wasn't either.  
  
'No, no, not like _that_, Granger,' Draco sneered as she settled down into a comfortable position. 'Move your leg, no, the other way, oh c'mon, how thick are you'-  
  
_'Shut up Malfoy_!' Hermione yelled. They stared at each other for a few minutes, and the only thing to be heard was their angry, raspy panting. Draco had turned so crimson he looked like he should have been in Gryffindor, and before Hermione could stop herself she started laughing.  
  
'What's so funny, mudblood?' he scoffed, toning down a bit.  
  
'You look...like...a beetroot,' she grinned. 'A beetroot with white hair.' Draco didn't laugh with her, even after glancing in a mirror out of the corner of his eye. He didn't even smirk. He just frowned and told her to be still.  
  
She did try to stay still for him, for the first hour. But after that he really started to bug her. It was always, move _this_ way, _that_ way isn't right, you look horrible in those clothes bring something else tomorrow...she was fed up with it. When he was concentrating on his sketch, she moved her head a little to see if he'd notice.  
  
'I told you to stay still, Granger,' he said icily.  
  
'Next time can you sketch me reading? This is bloody boring,' she muttered. She wasn't sure if she meant him to hear it or not  
  
'I told you to be still,' Malfoy drawled. 'And yeah, I guess so,' he added as an afterthought. So he did hear her. 'I'm almost done anyways, I just need to shade. Have this.' He lazily tossed her a gigantic book that would have knocked her clean out had she not ducked.  
  
'That's it, I'm out of here,' she shouted at him, standing up and strewing pillows everywhere. She grabbed her cloak and slammed the door after her, leaving Draco wondering exactly what he'd done.  
  
'I was just trying to be nice!' he roared after her, slamming his quill down. But she was long gone by then.  
  
'What were you doing, posing for Malfoy?' Ron asked, shocked, at breakfast the next day.  
  
'Because...he seemed nicer,' Hermione shrugged. She had decided to tell them the whole thing after they jokingly asked where she'd been last night. Except for the part with the towel, of course. 'But I guess Malfoy can never stop being a little...' she continued, searching for the right word. She was within hearing range of the teachers, though, and decided not to use language she wanted to. 'Twit,' she settled for. Hermione paused dramatically and twisted in her seat to give the Slitherin table a heated stare.  
  
'Yeah, and it took you only...' Harry pretended to count on his fingers. 'Only six years to notice?'  
  
'I thought you were supposed to be the smart one, Hermione,' Ron said. He smiled at her, letting a little bit of jelly dribble down his chin.  
  
'Ron, you're disgusting,' Hermione commented, leaning over the platter of black pudding to wipe it off.  
  
'Ugh, quit it Hermione, you're not my mother,' Ron said, cocking an eyebrow. It was a recently acquired talent that he was very proud of. Hermione stared at him a minute, thinking of how happy it would maker her to fling a fried egg at him. But she was a Prefect; that would be a bad example for the first years. She already had enough trouble with food fights, without adding to it herself.  
  
'I'll see you later, I have to go to the library,' she said quickly. It was true, she needed to write her history of magic essay, but she said that mostly to get away from Ron. She didn't think she could stand any more of him at the moment.  
  
'Cheers, Hermione,' Harry said as he waved goodbye. She scurried out of the hall and down to the library, trying to ignore Madam Prince's evil look. Hermione wondered where the book she needed would be. Definitely not in the restricted section, so that ruled out almost a fourth of the library. If only she could just go to the Room of Requirement, this would be so much easier. She stared hopelessly at the thousands upon thousands of heavy books, and finally gave up. She felt so lost it made her dizzy.  
  
'Madam Prince,' she said, almost in a whisper. The librarian's head snapped up from the book she'd been poring over.  
  
'What?' Madam Prince asked irritably.  
  
'Er...I was wondering if you have a book in the library...and...'  
  
'Well, obviously.'  
  
'Yes, well, I was looking for _How Love Changed History_,' Hermione finished quickly. 'Binns, sixth year?' the librarian asked throatily. Hermione nodded, glad she was finally getting somewhere. Madam Prince was one of those people who had the talent to make everyone else around them feel like an idiot. Sort of like Malfoy, Hermione realized. She smirked at the thought of what those two would look like on a date.  
  
'Follow me,' Madame Prince said, frowning at Hermione's rude simpering. The librarian led her to the shelving labeled _History: Romance_. Hermione had never seen such a section. The library was larger than she'd realized. It frustrated her a little to find out she didn't know everything about the place she spent the better part of her time at. She wondered if the sections sometimes moved around overnight like the staircases did.  
  
'Fresh out,' Madame Prince told her, skimming through the sea of book spines. 'Popular, that one.'  
  
'Thanks,' Hermione whispered, and waited for the librarian to leave. Fat help that had been. She eyed the piles of books towering over her and wondered if there was another one she could use. But before she could go through the trouble to look, someone tapped her on the shoulder with the very book she needed. She spun around to see Malfoy offering it to her.  
  
'Looking for this?' he smirked. Hermione smiled at him and took it with a small 'thanks.' And then, just for a second, his fingertips brushed against hers. 


	6. Cats and Dogs

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the other characters in this story. Wish I did though.  
  
**Chapter Five  
Cats and Dogs  
**  
'By the way, Malfoy...thanks for the book,' Hermione smiled. Draco looked up from him parchment, stunned. When had Granger ever thanked him? He shook his head and muttered something inaudible, then continued trying to perfect the face. He had stopped ordering Hermione to be still about an hour ago, mainly because he knew she wouldn't be, but also because he found himself liking her company. Her chattering could be as charming as it was annoying.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes and continued to pet Crookshanks. She was going to pose reading for Malfoy as promised, but she finished her history essay before she left for the Room of Requirement. The reading had been unbearable. She usually liked history books, but this one was incredibly sappy and its tone reminded her of Professor Binn's. Namely, a monotone. So this time she decided to bring Crookshanks instead, wondering what Malfoy would say. She could tell as soon as his eyes lit over the prospect of drawing an animal that he was delighted; as she got to know him better, he had a harder time hiding his emotions from her. However, he tried to hide his enthusiasm and gave her a bitter shrug. Draco waved his hand vaguely at a velvety, plum colored chair.  
  
'You know,' she said after an awkward silence, filled only by the dull scraping of quill on paper, 'you haven't shown me any of those things that you've drawn.'  
  
'_Those things_ are called artwork, mudblood,' Draco muttered, glancing up and studying the chair she sat on.  
  
'Don't call me that,' Hermione commanded sternly. Draco jerked his head up, because he could have sworn it had been McGonagall speaking. He'd always suspected Hermione was the old hag intoxicated with Polyjuice potion or something.  
  
'I will if you stop taking that tone with me,' he replied evenly. That seemed to shut her up, or at least make her quiet until he finished.  
  
'Can I see it now?' Hermione asked timidly when she saw him finish. He looked at her for a minute, thinking it over, and finally nodded. The muggle girl trotted over and looked over the three pictures of her, and a few others he pulled out of his bag. She blushed slightly as she came across a naughty one of Pansy Parkinson, and hastily stuffed it at the bottom of the pile. She couldn't help but wonder, though, if he'd had anyone posing for that one.  
  
'Well?' he asked when she handed them back. Hermione was careful to treat them like glass, because if she ripped one Malfoy was liable to explode. That would be a mess to clean up in the morning, she thought to herself with a grin.  
  
'Brilliant, Malfoy,' she said 'The shading is quite good.'  
  
'You really think so?' he asked eagerly. But then, before he could forget himself, he returned to the usual sneer.  
  
'Yeah,' Hermione said. And for a few minutes, it would seem to any passerby that they were holding a staring contest. Malfoy would have lost, because he pulled away first and muttered a quick goodbye. Hermione waved distractedly, and ran to her room as fast as she could carrying a cat and several tons of books . How could his silver eyes be so warm of emotion, and yet cold at the same time?  
  
She despised him for doing this to her.

'Er...' Hermione didn't know what to say. It was too early in the morning for this. She didn't really like him in that way, but how could she just tell him that? It would be so much easier to just agree.  
  
'Sure, I'll go out with you Harry,' she muttered wearily. He grinned and leaned over her. She thought he might give her a kiss and couldn't stop herself from cringing at the thought, but instead he started whispering to her.  
  
'Hermione, I know you don't really like me like that,' he hissed.  
  
'What are you talking about?' Hermione squeaked. It was true, she had never liked any boy like that-except Viktor, perhaps, if only for a little while- but definitely not Harry Potter. Still, she didn't want to hurt his feelings. She hastily continued, 'Harry, you're a very nice boy and'-  
  
'Hermione, I'm not really asking you out,' Harry told her.  
  
'Yes you are, what do you think you just did?' Hermione was getting confused, and she didn't like it. Not one bit. She gazed curiously at Harry, stammering to find the right words, and even he noticed she was starting to scowl. He decided to finish this up quick, hoping she'd just agree. He'd picked now to ask her this, because she looked like she'd agree to anything just to get back to the dorm and get some shuteye.  
  
'Look, Hermione, please try to understand this...' he muttered, as if speaking quietly would help the situation. 'Don't get mad... I just want you to pretend to be my girlfriend so that...well, you know I want Cho and all, so if you could just help me make her jealous...' He looked down at her hopefully.  
  
'Harry!' she almost yelled, half shocked and half furious. 'I will do no such thing!' He looked crestfallen, worse than a child whose only Christmas present was a lump of coal.  
  
'Please,' he pleaded. 'If she thinks we're going out, she'll'-  
  
'Only get angrier!' Hermione finished. She couldn't believe Harry was asking her to do something so...well, something so downright wrong.  
  
'When I go out with someone, it won't be to help them get back at their ex!' she shouted. Hermione thought she noticed people staring and whispering at them. Not that she cared about what other people thought, but it was still kind of embarrassing to be making a scene like this with Harry, of all people.  
  
'Its not to get back at her,' Harry murmured, struggling to stay calm. 'It's to get her to want me.' It was then that Hermione snapped. She took a bold step forward and slapped Harry clean across the face. People were definitely staring now. He gazed at her for a minute, looking hurt, and Hermione was almost ready to apologize. But then, a minute later, he was screaming 'What did you do that for you bi'-  
  
'Hmmm, Potter, you had better watch you language,' someone drawled from behind Harry and Hermione. They both turned around to see who it was, Hermione looking pale and Harry with his fist raised.  
  
'Bugger off Malfoy,' Harry spat. 'This is none of your business.'  
  
'Oh contraire, Potter,' Malfoy replied, circling Harry like a predator. 'You know it's not polite to hit a lady. One of us had to be the gentleman, and obviously it's not going to be you. Calling nice ladies dogs, hmmm...'  
  
Harry was seething. He turned his attentions from Hermione to Malfoy, and she couldn't help but give Draco a gratified smile. He returned it with a smirk.  
  
'Since when has she ever been a _nice lady_ to you?' Harry spat. It sounded she wasn't much of a nice lady to him at the moment either, judging by his tone. Harry dramatically paused to push his glasses up his nose until his lashes brushed against them. 'I thought she was nothing more than a filthy little mudblood,' he growled. 'Bet you two are having fun during those little posing sessions, eh?'  
  
Draco faltered in his step. She had told? She told Potter and Weasly? He glowered at the filthy little mudblood. After all the nice things he'd been doing for her lately, too...  
  
'Ah, got you there,' Potter said. He smirked, which made Draco angrier, if that was possible. That was _his_ smirk, not damn Potty's.  
  
'Leave now Malfoy, and I won't tell,' Harry hissed. 'Don't butt into my business or you'll find your pretty little pictures plastering the school.' Draco looked around. Was there anything worth saving here? His last shreds of dignity, that was for sure. The little mudblood could get the beating she deserved and he could just walk away with an unscathed reputation, it was all very simple. He took one last look into her pleading eyes and began to walk away, when he heard faint moan. He twirled around and saw Potter practically dragging Granger out of the hall. Wondering what the hell Potter thought he was doing, Draco decided to follow.  
  
If there was one thing that could happen to make him detest Potter even more, it was what he saw as he rounded the corner.  
  
'Stupfey!' he shouted. Potter crumpled up into a head on the floor. 


	7. You Have Me'

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the other characters in this story. Wish I did though.  
  
**Chapter Six  
'You have me'**  
  
She was dead. Oh god, she was dead. He knew it, she was-  
  
'Draco?' Hermione muttered. She unfurled herself and gazed up at him. To his surprise, delight and utter infuriation there wasn't a bruise on her body. Instead of being black and blue, her face was nothing more than pink and splotchy. He'd risked a detention and possible house points for this?  
  
'Hermione!' he cried. He tried to look pleased, but didn't think it worked. She was leaking again. He figured he better act concerned to placate Lake Granger . 'Are you all right? Tell me now,' he ordered.  
  
Hermione groaned, blinking back the tears. It sounded more like a threat than a request, and she couldn't handle any more threats. Not today. She gulped, and glared daggers at him.  
  
'I'm fine, and since when have _you_ cared Malfoy?' she snapped back at him. He noticed she was no longer on first name basis with him, and decided to tone it down a bit. Maybe acting concerned wasn't the right way to comfort an upset girl. He was proud of his knowledge on the opposite sex, but had to admit he wasn't very experienced in the waterworks departments. Sure, he'd made numerous girls cry, but he hadn't tried to sooth them afterwards. He groaned and decided to take another stab at it.  
  
'Well...' he said softly, offering a hand and helping her to her feet. He wondered what he should say to ease the tension. Draco finally settled on, 'I can't have students being murdered on my watch, now can I?' Hermione glowered at him for a few seconds, but finally registered it as a joke and let him help her up. He took this as a good sign.  
  
'So, tell me...are you all right?' he repeated. He chose his words carefully, because students were starting to pass this way out of the Great Hall. He didn't want her making a scene in front of them. He glanced over at Hermione, and to his relief she wasn't crying anymore. Instead, she was searching him. Like she was looking for a reason not to tell plastered across his forehead. This annoyed him a little, but he worked to keep his temper down. He looked down on her sympathetically.  
  
'No,' she replied finally. She decided he sounded sincere enough. Draco cocked an eyebrow at her, scanning her for any black eyes or bruises throttling her neck. She looked fine...unless...His eyes slowly traveled down further with a questioning look.  
  
'He didn't...?'  
  
'No, he didn't,' Hermione retorted curtly. Her cheeks flushed, but after a long pause they began to cool down. As did her tears. She finally plucked up the nerve to tell Draco what Harry-no, what Potter-had done. She just hoped he wouldn't burst out laughing, which he certainly would have done a few years ago. He seemed to have changed, though...he was nicer...sweeter...not to mention dead sexy, but she tried not to think about that. Just look at where it had got her last time, storming through Hogwarts with naught but a towel on...  
  
'Then what did he do, if he didn't beat you to a pulp?' Draco snapped. Hermione jerked up, and realized she'd been laughing at herself as she remembered the Towel Incident. Draco, however, didn't look so amused. Actually, he was about ready to snap. Why wouldn't the girl just bloody tell him?  
  
'Harry doesn't sink to that level, unlike some people I happen to know,' Hermione replied, shooting Draco another amused look. That did it.  
  
'_Shut up, mudblood_!' he hissed. 'Just shut up.' He didn't feel bad about twisting her arm behind her back the next instant, since he knew she hadn't been beaten up already.  
  
'Draco,' Hermione squealed. She hadn't meant it as an insult, couldn't the prat take a joke? 'Get off me _NOW_!' She pulled out her wand with her free arm, but Draco was a few steps ahead of her. She felt something cutting into the nape of her neck, and winced as Malfoy dug his wand into her skin.  
  
'I've tried to be nice...I've even let you pose for me'- He ignored Granger's muffled protests. 'I've just saved you from Potter...and you know what? You give me nothing but crap! I'm sick of you! I thought you might turn out to be a halfway decent person...but I guess my father was right. Mudbloods are scum.'  
  
He paused and removed his wand. Hermione sighed and relaxed a little, wishing he would let go of her arm too. It was starting to numb. But then she gasped as she felt the accursed wand jabbed back into her, deeper and deeper with each word Malfoy spat.  
  
'_Every... Last.... One_.'  
  
He let go of her and watched her sink to the floor with a pleased smirk. But before he could stalk away, Hermione began to yell after him.  
  
'You know what Potter said?' she bellowed, making sure he and everyone else in the castle could hear her. 'You know what he said? He's no longer my friend. Ron's no longer my friend. He told me I have nothing but my books, and he was right.' She paused, allowing herself to sniffle, and noticed Malfoy had stopped dead in his tracks. She got him. She let herself choke out a few sobs, and shrieked 'he was right! He was bloody right!'  
  
Hermione curled up in a ball on the floor, bawling to a first degree. She couldn't hear the clacking of Malfoy's shoes as he ran over to her above her own wailing. She only noticed him when he grabbed her hair to pull her painfully up. This was not what she had intended. Was Malfoy really cold enough to jump a crying girl? She didn't even bother to answer that, because she already knew from years of experience. Yes, he would. She decided to stop crying, though, and take it like she always used to. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her blubber, even though she was scared senseless. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, and then opened them to face Malfoy and every curse he had to throw. But he hadn't pulled his wand out to hex her. His fists weren't balled. Instead, he was staring down at her strangely. She couldn't tell what it was exactly, not at first. But as he leaned down, closer and closer to her, he murmured something in her ear.  
  
'You have me.'  
  
It was then she realized what that look was. It was how Ron looked at her before they snogged that first time in the Diagon Alley. It was how her very few exes looked at her when she accepted their dating proposals.  
  
It was the look of lust.

(A/N) Mwahaha...ok not much of a cliffie...but thanks for the reviews! You guys rock! Sorry it was so short, but I wanted to get this chapter up fast...so enjoy, it might be a while before I've posted the next chapter. I promise it'll be longer tho! ;) 


	8. Under Cover of Darkness

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the other characters in this story. Wish I did though.  
  
**Chapter Seven  
Under Cover of Darkness  
**  
Hermione closed her eyes and listened to the bullets of shower water patter against her back. It had been three days since her encounter with Draco, and since then he hadn't said a word to her. She had to admit she was a little peeved, but at least him saying nothing was better than him reverting to the old Malfoy.  
  
She leaned back and let water drip off her nose with a soothing _pink_ noise, inhaling deeply the japonica conditioner she'd lathered into her hair. Not that the conditioner did any good taming it, but the stuff smelled nice nonetheless. She wondered if Draco had smelled it as he leaned in towards her that night. She had really thought he was going to kiss her, and even then, as she took her shower, she didn't quite know what she thought of the notion. A Malfoy would never kiss a muggle, let alone in a hallway where multitudes of students could see. A Malfoy would be more likely to seduce her, knock her up and discard her. But Draco hadn't been acting like a Malfoy towards her at all lately. She guessed she wouldn't mind him kissing her...maybe a peck on the cheek, seeing as his lips looked so nice to touch; not chapped like Ron's, or too sticky with saliva, but thin and sweet. Not to mention he smelled almost better than the japonica conditioner in her hair.  
  
But she was just flattering herself; Draco had no interest in her whatsoever, she was sure of that. He would never even think about kissing her, let alone out of his own free will. Besides, he was going out with that hag, Pansy. Pansy wasn't exactly an adonis, but she was still prettier than Hermione. Draco would never dump Pansy for a muggle like herself.  
  
Hermione wrenched the shower faucet off and stomped out of the steamy cubicle, shaking herself dry. She had to get some fresh air. After making sure she was dressed in more than a towel this time, she crawled out of the portrait hole and wrung her hair. A small puddle of water smacked onto the flagstone floor from it, waiting patiently to be cleaned up. Hermione high tailed it out of the corridor before Filch came along and saw the wet mess.  
  
It was cool, crisp and refreshing out on the lawn. The dew had turned into frost in the evening chill, and crackled under her light footsteps. Not many people were about at this hour; the occasional couple making out under the shade of a tree, a group of first years playing tag...she wished so much that she was one of them. They were all so happy and carefree, doing whatever they wished, having all they wanted. She longed to be the girl, giggling as the boy pulled her out of sight, or one of the kids playing without any worry of yesterday or tomorrow.  
  
How could Draco do this to her? She hated him for how he treated her the most part of her Hogwarts life...so why did she wish he was the one pulling her behind a lonely tree, that he was the one tickling her as she was tagged? Shaking her head, she pressed on towards Hagrid's hut. She didn't want to go in, because in there were too many memories involving Harry and Ron. But it was nice nonetheless to sit under the window and feel the warm breeze from Hagrid's fire against her soaked head. She closed her eyes contentedly and lay her head against the windowsill, smiling.  
  
Hermione sat there so long she must have fallen asleep, because when she reopened her eyes it was no longer sunset. The sky was as black as the lake's ripples, dotted with uneven specks of silver. The moon cast a glow over the grounds just light enough for her to see, but she still felt uneasy. No one was out but her; even Hagrid's window was still and dark. She was all alone in the pitch dark, right near the forbidden forest. If she were attacked now, her screams wouldn't be heard by anyone. She knew Hagrid well enough to know he slept like a log, and the castle lay oblivious to the racket outside of it. She would never be found until the morning.  
  
Hermione shuddered and shook such dumb thoughts from her head, then moved to get up. Something crackled softly behind her, like a foot on a twig. She gasped and jumped clear off the woodpile she'd been sitting on and stumbled over a stray piece of lumber, landing face down in the ground. She lay there for several minutes, so still she could have been dead. But when she heard no more noise around her, she got up and assumed the crackling had been a figment of her imagination. She angrily reminded herself she was much too old to be scared of the dark, and figured she had better return to the castle before she was missed. Especially if Ginny happened to realize she wasn't there at night...Hermione would never hear the end of it.  
  
She got up and started to head for the castle when her sleeve caught on something. Guessing it was just a branch, she absentmindedly reached over to pull it off before it ripped her robe's sleeve. But...it didn't feel like wood. Trees aren't that soft, or fleshy...  
  
She shrieked as someone's hand grabbed her mouth and pulled her back into a warm, very solid object. She tried to bite it away, but it was hopeless. She let out another muffled shriek and tried to kick her attacker somewhere, anywhere, but her foot couldn't reach.  
  
'Whoa,' the boy whispered in her ear. 'Stop that...Ha, I'm mad now, Granger.'  
  
'Let go of me, you twisted ba'- she tried to yell, but he clamped further into her jaw.  
  
'Language,' he muttered simply. 'Now be still...you moved before I could finish drawing you. I don't believe the professionals would think much of that, hm?'  
  
'Oh God,' Hermione panted. 'Oh God...' she turned around and collapsed into Draco's arms, racked with sobs. She could have killed him, he scared her so badly.  
  
'Sorry Hermione, didn't mean to frighten you,' Draco whispered in her ear. He flicked his eyes over the length of her. 'But you know, you are kind of cute when you're scared.'  
  
'Don't do that,' Hermione warned him venomously. She jerked away from him, and Draco seemed a bit taken aback. 'I didn't really mean it,' he shrugged. 'I wasn't trying to scare you, honest.' Hermione looked at him and sniffled a bit, letting him run a finger down the salty trail on her cheek. She shuddered, but this time not because she was scared or chilly. She hated to admit it, as she'd always seen herself an independent woman, but she felt safe with him wrapped tightly around her. More than safe. She slumped forward into his chest, just barely able to make out the Slytherin serpent embroidered on his robes. It was so dark, and she was alone with Malfoy, no one to interrupt, no one to invade...normally she would have been petrified in this situation, but for now she just felt hot and flushed. She could feel his whole body pulsing, and it was a wonderful feeling.  
  
'You look like a picture,' Malfoy sighed in her ear. That had been completely random. Hermione glanced up, unsure if the comment was supposed to be an insult or a compliment.  
  
'Er...thank you?' Hermione whispered back. He sounded nice enough when he said it, she guessed.  
  
'But the lips...' Malfoy continued. He leaned back, let go of her and made a small frame from his thumbs and index fingers.  
  
'What about the lips?' Hermione murmured. She shivered as he drew in closer, coiling his arms around her neck.  
  
'They're not right,' he told her slowly. 'They look too pale.'  
  
'Well then add more red paint,' Hermione grinned. She was barely aware of what an idiot she sounded like, barely aware of what she was doing. Not only was she letting Malfoy seduce her, but she was enjoying it as well! She didn't care. One kiss wouldn't hurt. This was probably a dream anyway; she would wake up still asleep under Hagrid's window. It didn't matter what she thought, what she did or said. She could do whatever she wanted. And she knew exactly what she wanted.  
  
'Add more red paint?' Malfoy smirked. He sniggered and shot Hermione a wolfish grin. 'Yes, I think I shall...I shall...'  
  
Hermione closed her eyes, as did he, and let the darkness take over her. She could not see, could not hear, could not do anything except feel. And what she felt was Malfoy, his warmth, his heart thudding against hers... and soon, his lips smothering own. It was only a tickle at first, but then progressed to a gentle caressing. And she was right, so right; his lips felt perfect. They fit into every groove of her own as they gracefully tumbled into her, letting the two people-a muggle and a pureblood-become one.  
  
Neither noticed the flash of glasses glowering at them through the Gryffindor window. 


End file.
